


Bell flight fourteen you now can land (See you on Aldebaran)

by mentosmorii



Category: Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer
Genre: Gen, minor spoilers for the Fowl Twins, nothing major plot wise though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:14:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22063849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mentosmorii/pseuds/mentosmorii
Summary: As of the Fowl Twins, Artemis is on 5-year long research trip to Mars. This is a look at what made him decide to look to the stars.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 49
Collections: Artemis Fowl Yuletide





	Bell flight fourteen you now can land (See you on Aldebaran)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WingedFlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingedFlight/gifts).



There comes a time in every person’s life when they look up at the night sky — _really_ look at the night sky, not just briefly glance up at it — and are struck by just how _small_ this blue dot in the galaxy is in the grand scheme of things. It’s all too easy to view life on Earth as being a bit like a child’s shoebox diorama; although the bits that connect to day-to-day life are clearly in 3-D, such as the rolling landscapes and the steep buildings that speckle the planet, the _above_ bits, such as the stars and sky, just seem… 2-D. How can endless blue or black have any sort of depth to it? On most days, there’s nothing about the sky that whispers to you that if you were to fall up into it, there’d be no promise of you stopping at all, not ever.

But some days, you look up at the wine-dark night sky, and it _clicks_.

It’s romantic to think that with this brief, once-or-twice-in-a-lifetime revelation, that something changes within you. That this small peek beyond the veil might lead one to turn to faith, or to science, or to some mixture of the two.

However, the fact of the matter is that for most people, when they look up at the night sky and are able to finally make their gaze pierce the flat blackness, they just intensely and briefly feel overwhelmingly tiny. The kind of tininess that is too big to be contained for very long within the heart, and so the feeling is often exhaled into the night.

There’s not much time in this life to run after fleeting feelings.

Unless, of course, you have money.

Artemis Fowl the second was not the first rich man to be star-struck.

* * *

When Artemis started planning to leave for Mars, he understandably ran into some problems. The first, of course, being how it was that he was going to accomplish his mission. The ship itself had to be constructed, preparations had to be made to ensure his health remained in good condition, and, of course, both food and water rations had to be considered.

The second, but just as pernicious, problem was also about how he was going to accomplish his mission, but this particular obstacle had less to do with physically getting himself into space so much as it had to deal with the exhausting amount of bureaucracy one must subject oneself to when leaving Earth.

The bureaucracy in question that he had been grappling with for the past few months wasn’t even the _human_ part of the equation (Artemis shuddered to think of the mess he’d have to trudge through when dealing with the UN). Although he hadn’t initially considered that the People would be an obstacle to his off-planet jaunt, it was becoming abundantly clear that they were going to be a thorn in his side. Artemis had been cursing himself for not expecting pushback from the LEP back when he’d received a heated email from Trouble (or _Commander_ Kelp, as the other man had signed the message).

Begrudgingly, Artemis could see why the Mars project was ruffling feathers down in Haven— _technically_ , space travel required some minor dabbling in nuclear energy, and it logically followed that the People might not be too pleased about him … pursuing such technology. Still, Artemis sighed, a little trust would be appreciated. He’d put his life on the line for the People far too many times to be put on a sort of intellectual leash by the Council.

* * *

Butler had stumbled upon the project wholly by accident.

He blinked owlishly at the scene in front of him, almost surprised to have found something out of the ordinary while doing his early morning rounds. Butler’s eyes wandered around the workspace, taking in the scattered papers and spare parts.

“Launching your own spacecraft sounds very much illegal,” Butler remarked, bending down slightly so he could enter the more cramped part of the workshop.

Artemis had the decency to look almost bashful at having been caught, but he took the ribbing in stride. “Illegal? In that case, let me stop my work here and now, Butler.”

Butler shrugged. “I meant that it’s illegal in the sense that private citizens launching themselves into orbit sounds immensely dangerous. And bad for diplomacy.”

“It’s not my fault Ireland lacks a national space program.”

“No,” Butler said, almost chuckling despite himself. “No, I suppose it’s not.”

He moved to sit down on the floor with Artemis. It was funny — in almost every aspect of life, Artemis was fastidiously neat. However, when it came to his engineering, Artemis was willing to tolerate a remarkable amount of mess; Butler shot a quick glance downwards to make sure he wasn’t about to sit on a piece of metal or a tool.

“How long?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Artemis shot Butler a glance. “It wouldn’t be any consolation for me to say that I was planning to tell you about the project eventually, I’d reckon.”

Butler sighed. “No.”

“Very well,” Artemis said, smiling a tad ruefully. “A few months back, I began considering starting a research mission to Mars.”

“This,” Artemis added, gesturing to the disarray of the room. “Is the product of said consideration.”

“Why Mars specifically?”

“Mars is more realistic to travel to than Venus or Jupiter, yet I’d still be the first to visit,” Artemis quipped.

Butler scoffed. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve heard you come up with. Come on now, let’s hear the real reason.”

Artemis grinned, leaning back against the cabinet doors in his workspace. “The mission would be something to do.”

“You have plenty to down here,” Butler pointed out. “Helping out with Myles and Beckett, for a start.”

“I know,” Artemis said, an uncharacteristic defensive edge worming its way into his voice. “The project — it’s still…”

Artemis searched for the right words, frustration apparent. “It’s mainly just a mental exercise, if I’m being honest,” he admitted, deflating somewhat. “As soon as things became serious — if they became serious at all — with the project, I would have told you. I’m afraid I don’t have a good reason for.... all of this.”

Artemis gestured at the unfinished engine in front of him.

“When you find the People, you coincidentally find everything else,” Artemis sighed, picking up a discarded tool. “There’s no _mystery_ left to uncover. Any secrets the Earth still has are lying both answered and cataloged in one of Foaly’s databases. I don’t take the position I’m in lightly, either — I’ve been discretely pointing the people who have the means to make a difference towards the answers to clean energy and corruption —”

“And if they decide not to do anything with that information?” Butler asked.

“— then I transfer what money and power they have to someone more likely to take action,” Artemis finished, setting the tool back down resolutely.

“Like what you did with Spiro’s assets,” Butler said, remembering.

Artemis smirked, but the action didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Exactly. Assuming leadership of a grand movement to improve this world is a noble pursuit, but it is also an undertaking that will leave one with little freedom to pursue anything else. Hence, I’m all too happy to delegate portions of the enterprise to a handful of individuals who will rise to the occasion.”

“Yet you’re still bored,” Butler surmised, and Artemis winced.

“It does sound… bad when you say it like that,” Artemis conceded. “I’ve my father back, my mother healed, and two healthy younger brothers. I’ve _won_ , haven’t I?”

Artemis frowned. “I sound like father before he decided that the Fowl Star would be his ‘last big hurrah’ before settling down.”

“Artemis Fowl I and the Fowl Star, Artemis Fowl II and the stars in the sky.”

“I’m _serious_ , Butler.”

Butler softened. “Artemis, I don’t mean to make fun. I just think you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. You miss adventure. That’s normal. Hardly something to feel like you have to keep a secret while you sneak off to tinker around down here. You’re talking about this space project business as if you’re some sort of retiree.”

Artemis deadpanned. “Teenage criminal mastermind to _consultant_ is a bit of a transition.”

“You’re building unsanctioned rocketships in the garage and blackmailing politicians into being more moral,” Butler pointed out. “I think the ‘criminal’ part still stands.”

Artemis and Butler sat there together in the dark, the dawn creeping closer and closer on the horizon outside.

“Oh, Domovoi,” Artemis breathed out finally. “I think I might be having a mid-life crisis.”

Butler was silent, taking in the mass of technology and scrap metal sitting in the workshop.

Finally, he snorted. “I haven’t had this many near-death experiences for you to decide your early twenties is ‘mid-life’.”

* * *

When Holly knocked at his workshop window a week later, Artemis was hardly surprised.

Officially, Holly had been sent topside to let Artemis know that if he pursued the research mission further, the Council was going to be taking action. When Trouble had slid the documented complaint from Councilmember Olomaer, Holly had taken the paper, nodding sympathetically at Trouble’s growing concern that a great deal of paperwork was about to come his way. She’d promised to talk Artemis out of whatever business he was getting into, and if that didn’t work, she’d said that she would let Artemis know that the LEP was empowered to take action against him.

Once she’d set the coordinates in her shuttle for Fowl Manor, she immediately sent off a message to Butler letting him know she’d be up a little after noon. She figured giving him time to account for her presence at dinner was only fair — Holly had been living off of protein shakes and Quik-Meals for the past month, and a chance at homecooked food was not one she was about to give up, official business from the LEP be damned.

As Artemis swung open the window so that she could duck inside, Holly took a moment to marvel at the garage. Inside, there were multiple computers whirring away, half-constructed bits and pieces of tech, and a considerable amount of paper notes strewn about.

Artemis must’ve noticed her looking around, as he smiled at her, his eyes crinkling. “Come to talk me out of the project?”

“The opposite, actually. Mulch told me to bring you something for the ship,” Holly explained, handing Artemis a small bag filled with tissue paper.

Artemis' eyes lit up with interest. “Oh?”

Delicately, he took the bag from her. Reaching into it, he pulled out the ribbon affixed to the mystery object, letting the small, cardboard tree hang suspended from his fingers.

“ _Ah_.”

Holly grinned. “It’s one of those car fresheners.”

“I can see that,” Artemis said, holding it up higher so it could twirl. “He _shouldn’t_ have.”

“It’s fair to mention he snagged it out of one of your dad’s cars back when he was living in your basement.”

“Is _currently_ living, not was living, Holly. Present tense,” Artemis murmured, pursing his lips and pocketing the gift.

She snorted, moving to sit on the countertop and powering her wings off. “You’ve gotta love him.”

Artemis huffed, and she laughed.

“Still, for the sake of your higherups, I assume you do need to give me a speech about not endangering the privacy of the People,” he sobered, and she waved him off.

“The speech can wait,” she said. “Business can be for after dinner. It’s always far too long in between my visits to the manor, Arty. I want to at least catch up before we delve into empty threats of mindwiping.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Artemis confided. “I do have a small favor to ask of you.”

The displeasure seeped onto her face, and he backtracked. “Nothing ‘scheme-related’, as you would call it.”

She nodded, her expression still guarded. “Fine. What is it?”

Wordlessly, he handed her one of the folders resting on the counter. She took it gingerly, slowly flipping through the pages. After she’d finished, she set it down, considering.

Finally, she spoke. “Why me?”

“Why not?” he retorted, and she rolled her eyes at the amusement one his face.

“Why not Butler? Or Juliet? Or _you_?” she replied, quirking an eyebrow upwards. “If we’re answering questions with a question, that is.”

“Using either myself or Butler for the system would be confusing to the boys, as I plan to keep in regular contact with my brothers throughout the mission. In regard to Juliet, having her voice wouldn’t be ideal either, as she often comes back to stay at home during her offseason, and she’d doubtlessly find hearing her own voice in the security system disconcerting,” he rattled off, ticking a finger for every reason. Holly didn’t look impressed.

“You’re avoiding the question,” she noted, and he held up his hands in defeat.

“Very well,” he said. “Are you familiar with Pavlov’s experiments with classical conditioning?”

The out of the blue formality of question surprised Holly, and she laughed. He gave her a look, and she motioned for him to continue.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then. The point of the system is to make it so Myles and Beckett always feel safe in the house. As it’s always supposed to be active, they’ll come to associate the system with safety, and as they associate the system with safety…” he trailed off, and Holly’s eyes widened slightly in understanding.

“They’ll associate my voice with safety, too,” she finished for him, and he nodded.

“If they ever meet you, I want them to trust you, too,” he said gently.

Holly opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. After a moment, she sighed, her expression tinged with worry.

“You’re not allowed to get hurt up there, alright?” she said, and he chuckled. “I won’t be able to get you and Butler out of trouble if you’re thousands of miles away.”

“I’ll try my best,” he promised.

“And Arty?”

“Hm?”

“Make sure to tell me what Earth looks like from Mars.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to everyone who participated in the fic exchange! Hopefully you enjoyed the fic — it was a pinch-hit piece, but I think it turned out okay. The title is a reference to the song "2,000 miles from home" by the Rolling Stones, and it was a toss up between that, Rocket man by Elton John, and basically anything from Electric Light Orchestra's discography lol. We love a space opera, folks! Fair warning: I have not read the fowl twins, and what references there are in this fic to the new book are due to out of context spoilers (such as Holly's voice being used for the security system) that i saw on tumblr.


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